Baby Blue
by cleithroph0bia
Summary: Destiel High School AU, told from the first-person perspective of Castiel Novak, a misfit high school senior. After tiptoeing around each other's lives for three years, Castiel and Dean Winchester's worlds collide, creating a cosmic bond that redefines what it means to be in love.
1. Chapter 1

I will always remember the first time I saw him.

Of course, after going to the same school for three years, I had seen him around, crossing paths occasionally but never truly acknowledging each other. We remained in separate spheres of life, divided by our academic levels and our social status. But this was the first time I truly _saw_ him.

It was the first day of my senior year of high school, and I took the seat in the back of the physics classroom, placing my headphones in my ears, and scrolling through my music library to find a song that would drown out the conversations of those who sat around me. I decided on "Suspect Device" by Stiff Little Fingers, turned the volume as high as it would go, and let the opening guitar flood my ears, squeezing my eyes closed while I shut myself away from the external world.

My solitude was almost immediately interrupted by a tap on my shoulder. I opened my eyes, turned my head to face the intrusion, and was met with the stern glare of a girl with fiery red hair. I knew this girl to be Anna Milton, a popular girl who had been in several of my classes in the past three years since I started attending this school. I removed one of my headphones, and tilted my head questioningly, wondering what so important that she had interrupted one of my favorite songs.

"Uh… you're Castiel, right?" she asked, lifting her eyebrows in fear that she had gotten my name wrong, even after being acquainted with me for quite some time. I nodded, causing her to relax but her face turning stern again.

"Well, can you turn down your music? Everyone around you can hear it, and it's kind of obnoxious." I gritted my teeth at the familiar request. _You should be grateful I'm showing you some real music, _I thought to myself, but instead I smiled sheepishly and proceeded to turn the volume down slightly.

As I turned back to her to confirm she was satisfied with me obeying her request, I noticed her attention had turned to the front door of the classroom. As she studied who walked through, she ran her fingers through her red hair, and straightened her back, keeping her eyes focused on the boy. I bowed my head and rolled my eyes discretely, and then looked up again to see who it was she was gazing at.

That was the moment everything changed. That was the moment I saw him. Dean Winchester.

He was dressed in a dark brown leather jacket, which was snug around his arms, but hung loosely down his back and over his hips. Underneath he wore a black Led Zeppelin t-shirt, a faded pair of jeans, and around his neck hung a golden amulet, that appeared to be some kind of face. His faced bowed as he texted eagerly on his cellphone, smirking as he received a response. He shoved his cellphone into the pocket of his jacket, and scanned the room, searching for an empty seat.

The sun shone through the window, hitting his face perfectly as he glanced up, illuminating his golden brown hair, and making his eyes sparkle with a fluorescent green that stood out perfectly against his tan complexion. His jaw was chiseled, and he was clean shaven except for a light stubble over his chin. His skin was flawless, apart from freckles that sprinkled his nose. He ran his tongue over his pink lips, causing them to glistened against the light.

I only realized I had been staring when I noticed his eyes fall on the empty chair next to me. He pulled his lips into a small smile, as if silently asking my permission to invade my corner of the classroom. Rather than responding I slipped my headphones back into my ears, and averted my glance to watch my fingers tap the rhythm of the song against the surface of the table. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw him start to take small strides toward me, gripping a hand over the strap of his backpack that hung over one shoulder. Again, the sound of my music was interrupted by a high pitched voice.

"Dean!" Anna yelled, taking a step forward to block his path.

"Hey, Anna," Dean said, scrunching his mouth up in an awkward smile.

"I saved you a seat over here!" she grinned, placing a delicate hand over his forearm and trying to lead him to a seat which was situated between her own, and her friend Lisa. He hesitated before giving into her pull, and then swung his backpack off, slumping into the chair and crossing his arms. Lisa flipped her dark wavy hair over one shoulder and then leaned toward him, giggling and batting her eyelashes. I rolled my eyes again, turned my music back up to full volume, not caring whether anyone else could hear it or not.

Mr. Turner, the physics teacher, walked to the front of the classroom, and cleared his throat, waiting for the chatter to stop. I took the time to pause my song, which was now "Raw Power" by Iggy and the Stooges, removed my headphones, and then pushed my cellphone into my pocket. By the time I looked up again, the class had gone silent, and Mr. Turner stood with his arms behind his back.

"Welcome to 12th grade Physics, I'm Mr. Turner. Now, since it's the beginning of the year and I know you guys still have your minds in summer, we'll ease into things. First I'm going to take attendance, and then we'll discuss the curriculum for this school year."

He sat down at the computer on his desk, and pulled on a pair of reading glasses.

"Lisa Braedan?"

"Here!"

Garth Fitzgerald?"

Here."

"Joanna Harvelle?"

I'm here."

"Anna Milton?"

"Present!"

"Castiel Novak"

I raised my hand slightly, not wanting to speak. Mr. Turner glanced up and nodded at my gesture.

"and Dean Winchester, I saw you walk in. Tell Bobby I said hi, will you?"

"Sure thing Rufus," Dean said with a grin.

I frowned, wondering why Dean and our Physics teacher were on a first name basis.

"Hey, here I'm your teacher, so you have to call me Mr. Turner, remember?" The teacher called back, chuckling as he spoke.

Mr. Turner passed out the syllabus and then discussed the course load for the year. He explained how tests were weighted, and discussed the format of the midterm and final exams. He was a kind man, he explained everything well, and didn't seem entirely uptight about the lesson plans.

I glanced at the clock, noticing there were only three minutes until the bell rang. I kept my eyes locked on the seconds hand as it ticked it's way around. Finally, after what seemed like ages, the silence that had spread over the classroom was pierced with a shrill ring. I shoved the syllabus into my backpack, and slung it over my shoulder. With my eyes aimed at my feet, I walked swiftly out the classroom and down the hallway.

It was lunchtime, and I sat at my usual table with a red lunch tray in front of me. Before I began eating my burger, I once again put my headphones in and chose a song. Before I could pick up my burger, a hand came from behind me and snatched it away.

"Hi Cassy," the person spoke. I didn't even have to turn to know who it was. I would recognize that English accent anywhere.

"Balthazar, give me my food back." As my friend moved around the table he took a bite out of my burger and then placed it back on my tray.

He slumped down in the chair next to me, and picked up my phone, unlocking it to see what song I was listening to. He grimaced when he read the band name.

"Social Distortion? Come on Cassy you can do better than this bollocks." He pressed the skipped button until he found "Complete Control" by the Clash. He picked my right headphone out of my ear and began listening along with me, using the plastic utensils on my tray to drum to the beat on the table.

Balthazar was really the only person I got along with at school. He had moved here from England three years ago, and we clicked immediately. He was cynical, extremely sarcastic, and uninhibited, but he knew how to make me laugh, and listened to the same music as I did. We kept to ourselves for the most part, but our peers weren't overly fond of us.

"I like Social Distortion, Balthazar," I laughed, snatching my phone back from him. "Don't complain or you can find someone else to listen to music with."

My friend sent out a fake laugh. "Yeah, as if. You know you're the only one for me!" He ruffled his hand through my hair roughly and then returned to his fake drumming. "What's wrong? You seem a little down," he asked.

"Nothing, you know, first day of school always sucks." Balthazar took that as a challenge. He knew making a fool of himself in public never failed to cheer me up.

I laughed watching him attempt to spin the plastic knife around his fingers, dropping it on the floor continuously. He gave up, and changed the song, finding "No feelings" by the Sex Pistols. As the song started, he snatched my phone from me, placed both headphones in his ear, and leaped out of his chair. This time he chose to play air guitar, singing the words loudly.

"I got no emotions for anybody else, you better understand I'm in love with myself, myself, my beautiful self!" he sang, causing people from the surrounding tables to turn and frown at him. He disregarded their annoyed expressions and put on his best Johnny Rotten impression, finishing off the song by smashing his air guitar into the table, and then blew a kiss at a football player who grimaced at him from the table next to us.

I threw a french fry at him as he slumped back in his chair and laughed.

"Stop acting like an idiot," I laughed, "it's only the first day of school and you're already going to piss of a teacher."

"See if I care! We only have one more year at this awful place, I will act as I please." He crossed his arms, and raised his chin in the air. There was no arguing with him.

As I continued to eat my food, I noticed my younger brother and another boy of his age walking toward our table. My brother had just started at this school as a freshman. The other boy had long brown hair that fell past his ears. He was much taller, but quite lanky and had a young face.

"Hey Castiel, do you mind if we sit with you guys? All the other tables are taken."

"Hi Gabriel!" Balthazar said cheerfully throwing his arm around my brother's shoulders and pulling him into the chair next to him. "Who's your friend?"

"This is my friend Sam Winchester. He's a freshman too." Sam smiled awkwardly and held his hand out to me. I took it and smiled back, noticing his familiar last name. He set his lunch tray down on the table, and sat in the chair closest to Gabriel.

"How's your first day Gabe?" I asked, dipping another french fry in ketchup and taking a bite.

"Uh, it's alright. My teachers are dicks but at least I made one friend," he responded tilting his head toward Sam who was stabbing his fork into his salad.

"That's more than I can say for Cassy," Balthazar said laughing. I nudged him with my elbow and chuckled.

"Don't act like I'm not your only friend," I said and then turned my attention to the other freshman boy. "How about you, Sam?"

"It's been pretty good, thank you. I don't see a lot of my friends from middle school in my classes, but I have English with Gabe. My older brother is a senior too. Do you know him? His name is Dean."

I nodded, my mind flicking back to physics, thinking of the small smile he gave me while he stood at the front of the classroom, and the way his eyes shone in the sunlight.

"Yeah," I said softly, "I think I have a class with him this year."

"Are you guys friends?" the younger Winchester asked me, and Balthazar started laughing.

"I don't think we're the kind of people your brother would associate with," he said with a smirk.

The cafeteria filled with the noises of chairs scraping the floor, indicating that students were heading back to class. I took one last bite of my burger before pulling my backpack over my shoulder, and throwing my trash in the garbage can behind me.

"I guess it's almost time for our next class, what do you have Balthazar?"

"Study hall with Mr. Shurley, what about you?"

"Calculus with Mr. Crowley," I wrinkled my nose in irritation, knowing he wasn't the kindest teacher.

"Well, I'll see you after school then Cassy?"

"Yeah, see you then."

Sam and Gabe were already making their way toward the door of the cafeteria, and Balthazar ran to catch up with them, knowing his class was in the same direction.

I walked forward, attempting to dodge the masses of students who were discussing their next classes. Before I could make it to the front door, I felt someone forcefully bump into my shoulder from behind, knocking me onto the hard floor. I looked up and saw an athletic boy I recognized as Raphael, though I wasn't sure of his last name.

"Hey, watch where you're going, faggot." He spat the words at me, turning to his group of friends who all laughed, and continued on their way.

I rolled my eyes, getting called that name certainly wasn't uncommon. Before I could pull myself off the ground, I looked up to see a hand outstretched, inviting to help me up. I was hesitant to accept it, but froze when I glanced up at the boy's face to see a pair of sparkling green eyes. I took his hand, and smiled awkwardly in thanks as he helped me up.

"I'm sorry, don't listen to them, they're just a bunch of assholes," he smiled reassuringly.

I didn't look him in the eye, and instead turned to walk toward my next class. Before I could get more than a step away, he stood in front of me, blocking my path.

"You're Castiel, right?"

I looked up, and met his eyes with my own. He looked at me curiously. How had he known my name?

"Yeah."

"I think our little brothers are friends. And your in my physics class, right?"

I nodded slowly. He looked confused at my lack of conversation but didn't pry. He smiled, similarly to the way he had smiled at me earlier that morning.

"Okay, well, I'll see you around Cas."


	2. Chapter 2

I was sitting in my seventh period class, tapping my foot impatiently as my eyes were locked on the clock at the back of the room. Three more minutes. Three more minutes until I can escape this hellhole of a school, with all its miserable teachers and testosterone loaded jocks. Two. One. The final bell rang, a wave of relief sweeping over me. I had already packed up my belongings, and my backpack was resting on my lap in anticipation.

Students piled out into the hall from every doorway, chatting eagerly about their first day of school. I forced my way through the crowd, attempting to reach the front door when among the mass of bodies I spotted Balthazar, shoving books into his locker. As I approached my friend, he noticed me, closed his locker with more force than needed, and stepped forward to meet me.

"Hey Cassy, do you want to hangout? You know, do something to celebrate surviving the first day back?"

Because all of my teachers had agreed to ease back into school work, I wasn't left with much to do in terms of homework.

"Yeah, why not. You can come to my place if you want. We can watch a movie or something?"

"Sounds great, but I think I'll run home first and change. I smell like school," Balthazar said, his face scrunching up in disgust as he spoke the words, pulling on the collar of his white t-shirt that hung loosely on his thin arms. I nodded, and watched him turn to run out the front door.

I trudged along, lacking the energy that Balthazar always seemed to have. My exit was slightly hindered by a group of girls who were too focused on their phones to notice me attempting to pass them. By the time I finally reached the door that led to the parking lot, I noticed Gabriel already standing by my car, but he wasn't alone.

I walked slowly, my feet dragging on the floor behind me. As I got closer to the three students who stood by my where my car was parked, I noticed who the other two were.

The Winchester brothers.

When I arrived at my car, I paused, looming a few feet away from the trio, going unnoticed as they spoke amongst themselves. Dean tilted his head back and laughed at something Gabriel said, looking up far enough to see where I stood. He smiled, _that fucking smile_, and cleared his throat, causing my younger brother to turn around.

"Oh, hey, Castiel. Dean and Sam were just standing with me while I waited for you."

My eyes flickered between the two brothers, my mouth staying closed, unsure of what to say. I felt my brow furrow. Before today, Dean Winchester had lived seemingly unaware of my existence, and now here he stood by my car, casually conversing with my little brother. The three of them looked at me, almost as if expecting me to reply.

Dean spoke, filling the silence. "Anyway… We should probably head home, Sammy. Bobby will want to hear about your first day of high school. I'll see you later, Gabe. He pat my brother on the shoulder, and then turned his eyes to me. "Cas."

I flinched at the nickname he had assigned me. I was used to _Cassy _from Balthazar, but to everyone else, I'm just _Castiel_. I put up my hand, signaling my goodbye, rather than opening my mouth.

Dean and Sam headed towards a black car, parked several spaces away. Sam climbed into the passenger side, averting his attention immediately to his cellphone. Dean lingered by the other side of the car, turning his gaze back on me. He stayed there, unmoving for a moment, as I met his eyes with my own. A voice in the back of my mind screamed at me to look away, but something about his eyes, the intensity that laced them, made that far from easy. He opened the door, pulled his mouth into a crooked smirk, and then sat down, allowing me to look elsewhere.

"Come on, Gabe," I said, my mind snapping back into reality.

* * *

I sunk my head back into the cushions of my couch, easing my weary mind. Balthazar sat next to me, shoving handfuls of popcorn into his mouth, chewing loudly. After little deliberation, I had decided on watching Fight Club. It was, after all my favorite movie.

"Can you chew any louder?" I teased my friend, turning the volume up to drown out the noise of him crunching kernels between his teeth. He shifted closer to me, shoving a ridiculous amount of popcorn into his mouth, some of which spilling onto his lap, exaggerating his chewing to irritate me further.

"Stop it! It's getting to the good bit. The narrator is about to meet Tyler Durden," I said impatiently, turning up the volume even further. He reclined back into the cushion, and rolled his eyes. He had never seen the movie, and he was reluctant to admit he liked anything I introduced him to.

"I still think the reason you love this movie so much is because you fancy Brad Pitt."

"Shut up Balthazar, just watch it."

He gave up being a nuisance after realizing I would not condone such behavior, and by the time we reached the scene where the narrator and Tyler were sitting in a bar, he was completely invested, forgetting about the popcorn.

_"Fuck off with your sofa units and strine green stripe patterns, I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect, I say let... let's evolve, let the chips fall where they may."_

"I like this movie."

"I told you."

The volume of the television and the wonderful dialogue made me lose awareness of my surroundings. Suddenly, Gabriel stood in front of the screen, blocking my view. I groaned, and hit pause on the remote.

"What do you want, Gabe?"

"I've been calling your name! You weren't responding."

"We're watching a movie! What do you need?"

"Well, Sam asked if I wanted to hangout with him and Dean after school. I wanted to ask you if that's okay."

I realized I had been sitting on the edge of my seat, completely engrossed in one of my favorite scenes of the film. I leaned back, frowning at the question. He had never asked my permission to see a friend, and that decision was up to our older brothers.

"Why are you asking me? Ask Michael or Luke."

"They're both at work, and… I'm not asking permission, exactly. Apparently, Dean wants you to come along."

At his words, I felt my cheeks flush. My expression did not hide my confusion. _Why the hell would Dean Winchester want to hangout with me?_

"He… he said that? He said he wanted… me to come along?" My words fell out of my mouth in stutters, I bit my lip, taking a moment to collect my thoughts. "Are you sure?"

"That's what Sam said. I don't see why he would lie. So can we?"

My mind mulled over the idea. Since moving here three years ago I had never really spent time with anybody outside of school except for Balthazar. "Uh, I'll see what kind of homework I have tomorrow, and then we can decide."

Gabriel didn't broach the subject any further, but nodded, and shuffled out the room, leaving me and Balthazar to continue our movie without interruption. As soon as he was out of ear range, my friend snapped his head at me, with a shocked expression on his face.

"What the hell was that, Cassy?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you, getting all flustered at the mention of Dean Winchester's name. You're not turning soft on me, are you?"

I glared at him, clenching my jaw. Without responding, I pressed play on the remote, and crossed my arms, sinking back into the sofa. He scoffed, rolled his eyes, and then turned his attention once again to the movie.

* * *

In physics the next day I returned to my reserved table, separated from my peers who sat in groups, chatting away. The bell was due to ring at any moment, and as Mr. Turner began to close the door, Dean came barging in, breathing heavily as a sign he had been running.

"Sorry Ruf- I mean, Mr. Turner," Dean said with a sheepish smile.

"It's okay Dean, you made it hear just in time." Mr. Turner closed and locked the door behind him as the bell rang. Dean glanced around the classroom looking for a seat. I turned my head towards where Lisa and Anna were sitting, but his seat from yesterday had been taken by Jo Harvelle. That's when I realized, there was only one empty seat. The one next to me.

_shit._

As I let my forehead fall into my open hands, I heard a voice come from above me.

"Do you mind?"

I looked up. Dean was pointing a finger toward the chair. I shook my head. He grinned, threw his backpack on the table, and then slumped down next to me.

"Okay class," started Mr. Turner, "today I want you to write a paragraph on what you already know about physics." He began pacing around the classroom, "It can be anything. Gravity, friction, sound waves," he counted on his fingers. Just do your best. I'll allow you to listen to music if you have headphones, but no talking. This should be your _own_ work."

I unzipped my backpack and pulled out paper, a pencil, and my headphones. Before I had the chance to plug them in and chose a song, Dean tried to get my attention.

"Pst. Cas," he whispered.

I turned toward him, looking him in the eye with a puzzled expression.

"Do you have an extra pencil I can borrow?"

I slid my hand into my backpack, pulled out my second pencil, and placed it on the table in front of him. He rested his hand over it, and smiled.

"Thanks."

I nodded and looked through the music on my phone, stopping when I found "Some Weird Sin," by Iggy Pop. I turned down the volume halfway, knowing the other students would easily hear it in the silence if it was too loud.

I tapped my foot against the ground, singing the lyrics in my mind.

"So, uh, what are you listening to?"

I turned my attention back towards Dean. _Was he really trying to start small talk?_ He kept his eyes on me, anticipating an answer.

"Um, Iggy Pop." I replied quietly, not letting my voice rise to a volume that Mr. Turner could hear.

Dean pulled his mouth to the side, and nodded. I began considering what to write, but before I could articulate my thoughts on the page, I was interrupted yet again.

"I noticed you are always listening to music. In class, and at lunch." _When had he seen me at lunch?_ "Why is that?"

I turned again to face him, this time pulling out one headphone. "I'm not sure, it just helps me think. It also helps drown out the trivial conversations about make up and football."

Dean tossed his head back and laughed, echoing through the quiet that had spread throughout the classroom.

"Dean!" Mr. Turner said sternly, "I said no talking."

He looked up apologetically, and then tapped his fingers gently on the wood of the table with a pensive look on his face. After a moment of clear contemplation, he dug into his back pack and pulled out a piece of paper. He wrote something on the top line, and then slid it across the table toward me.

I looked over at the boy, his arm still outstretched, his head tilting toward the page. I set my hand on the paper, pulling it closer to read what was written.

_Are you and Gabe hanging out with me and Sam tonight?_

I had completely forgotten about the request until that moment. I set my pencil down on the page, writing my response carefully, making sure not to smudge my letters or make the print unclear.

_Maybe. I have to see what homework I have._

I pushed the paper back towards him, glancing up at Mr. Turner who was typing something on his computer, too busy to notice. Dean responded quickly, handing it back to me.

_Oh, come on! It's only the second day of school, you will have plenty of time for homework during the rest of the year._

I read and felt my nose wrinkle at the words in confusion. Was he actually trying to convince me?

_Why do you even want to hangout with me anyway?_

I slid it back to him wearily, expecting him to tease me or at least frown, but instead, he smiled, putting his thumb against his lip and gnawing at his nail nervously. He took a moment to think about his response, and then wrote it down. Before he could slide it back to me, Mr. Turner's hand smacked down on it, hiding Dean's words from view.

"Dean, your uncle is my friend, but passing notes is not allowed in my class."

Dean blushed wildly, bringing his hand on top of his head and running it through his golden brown hair. He bowed his head, avoiding eye contact with Mr. Turner as he read the note. The teacher simply widened his eyes, gave Dean a disapproving look, and then tossed it in the garbage can.

Dean didn't try to speak to me for the rest of class.


	3. Chapter 3

The final bell rang in seventh period, dismissing students for the day. After passing notes with Dean in physics, the thought of hanging out with him and our brothers after school was lingering in my mind. My lack of homework left me with no excuse to decline the offer, so I shuffled off to hide in the bathroom, hoping with my absence they would change their minds.

I stood before the sink, senselessly washing my hands over and over as a means of passing time. Soon, my palms felt raw as I wiped them dry on the rough paper towels, and I checked the time on my phone to confirm I could make a safe escape.

I opened the door partway, sticking my head out to observe the hallway. It was clear, apart from a few hovering students, but no Dean, Gabe or Sam. I slid out the opening, walking hurriedly to the front door. I cupped my hands around my eyes, and looked thoroughly through the glass at the parking lot. The coast was clear. My car was within sight, the black Impala I had seen Dean drive the day before was not.

I breathed, allowing my paranoia to wash away, and pushed open the front door. I stepped out, confident that my passage would be safe, my feet lazily scraping against the concrete. The next few seconds happened in a blur.

At one moment, the sound of my own footsteps was echoed by the sounds of several more, and the next moment, I felt arms firmly grasp my shoulders, pulling me in the opposite direction of my parked car. I wriggled under the grip, attempting to break free, but it was no use.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I screamed, my feet kicking out as I threw my elbow back, only hitting the empty air behind me. My captors laughed remaining hidden from view. They wrapped their arms tighter around mine as I thrusted my elbow back again, this time making contact.

I heard a yelp, and the grip on one of my arms loosened. "Fuck Castiel! That hurt," I turned my head, seeing Gabriel, keeling over in pain, one hand on his stomach. The other boy kept pulling.

"Gabe, what the hell are you doing?" He didn't answer, but straightened his back, rubbing his stomach as he ran to catch up. Before I could demand an answer, the other boy responded.

"We're kidnapping you. Me, you, Gabe, and Sam are going for pizza. No homework, no whining, no excuses," Dean chuckled, setting his other hand on my back to keep me from resisting. I groaned and struggled once more, but as I realized it would be unsuccessful, I gave into the pull, rolling my eyes as we trudged toward Dean's car.

As I stood before the Chevy Impala, I admired the shine of the black paint and the chrome, despite it being an older model. Sam pulled open the passenger door, lifting his leg to climb in.

"No Sammy, you and Gabe are in the back," Dean said, flickering his green eyes to me and smiling softly. Before I could stop myself, I smiled back, watching as Sam rolled his eyes and then slumped into the back seat next to my little brother.

I opened the door, climbed in, and shut it behind me, careful not to slam it too hard. Dean followed shortly after, putting the keys in the ignition and resting his hand on the steering wheel. He turned his chin slightly toward me, his eyes softening as they met mine.

I looked forward, back at the school and spotted Balthazar, standing several yards away. His face was perplexed, arms crossed tightly on his chest. I shrugged at him from my seat in the car as he shook his head and turned away.

* * *

The pizza parlor was small and cramped, the air carrying the sound of yelling in the kitchen, and the smell of cheese and baking dough. The four of us sat at a booth in the corner of the restaurant, sipping at our sodas, listening to Dean tell stories.

"So long story short, I put Nair in Sam's shampoo, and his hair was falling out in clumps for days," Dean said, stifling a laugh as he spoke. Gabriel tossed his head back, laughing wildly, as Sam hid his face in his hands with shame. I laughed too, pushing the salt shaker around on the table in front of me, trying to picture Sam with bald patches.

Our food arrived shortly after. Sam and Gabe had decided on sharing a pepperoni pizza, while Dean and I opted on mushroom and sausage. I licked my lips, as the smell flooded my nostrils, making me realize just how hungry I was. Dean noticed, and gently pushed the dish closer to me, nodding as he allowed me to take the first slice.

Before long, both the dishes were almost completely cleared, except for a few stray pieces of pepperoni and sausage. We all leaned back in our chairs, clutching our overly full stomachs.

"Castiel, me and Sam want to go play the arcade games. Can I have some change?" my little brother asked, gesturing toward the corner of the room. I nodded, and reached my hand into my pocket, pulling out a handful of quarters. He accepted them thankfully, and the two younger boys eagerly ran off, leaving Dean and I alone.

His eyes lingered on me for several seconds, before he leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the table.

"You're a good older brother, you know that?" he spoke sincerely. I shifted in my chair under his steady gaze, and cleared my throat to speak.

"Thanks. I mean- it's always kinda been just the two of us. I never really knew my father. He ran out on us when my mom was still pregnant with Gabriel…" I trailed off, aiming my eyes at my hands in my lap before continuing. "And, my mom died about three years ago. That's why we moved down here, to live with my older brothers, Michael and Luke."

_Why was I telling him this?_

I sighed as I anticipated what was bound to come. The inevitable, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize," from the pitying other, who I had just unexpectedly loaded my sob story upon. He looked down, parting his lips before making a sound.

"My mom died too."

I looked up, confused. Now, that I had not been expecting. My eyes squinted as I studied his face, attempting to hold back emotions. He noticed my stare and smiled sadly.

"It's okay, it was a long time ago. I was only four, Sam was still a baby. It's just…" he sighed. "My dad was never really the same after that… He travels a lot with work so my brother and I live with my uncle Bobby now."

Dean Winchester and I had, for three years, been living completely separate lives. He was on the upper tier of the high school hierarchy, with his good looks and charming attitude. I, on the other hand, was the misfit with a nonexistent social life. But here we sat in this pizza parlor, parallel lines intersecting at last. With absent fathers, and mothers who had passed away, Dean and I shared a past of pain and grief.

Gabriel and Sam returned soon after, laughing and teasing each other.

"You totally cheated, Gabe!"

"I did not! Don't be a sore loser," he said, and then turned his attention toward me. "Castiel, can Sam and Dean come back to our place for a while? I want to show Sam a new video game I bought the other day."

I frowned at my brother. He was certainly pushing boundaries. Eating pizza with a boy I had barely ever spoken to was one thing, but inviting him to my house, my only safe haven, was another thing entirely. I shifted my look from Gabe's pleading eyes to Dean, who smirked, seeming to hope that I say yes.

"Uh, let me text Luke. He should be back from work by now."

I pulled out my phone searching for his contact name. I paused, running my finger over the screen as I considered what to say. It was unusual of me to be inviting a friend, or whatever Dean was, to my house.

_Hey, do you mind if Sam and I have a couple of friends over?_

I set my phone down, watching as Dean left a 5 dollar bill on the table as a tip. He took one last sip of his soda, and then pushed his chair back, standing slowly while clutching his gut. Suddenly, my phone vibrated on the surface of the table.

_From Luke:_

_I don't care. Just don't bother me while I work._

I rolled my eyes, but then noticed the three other boys all were watching me, silently waiting for a response.

"He said yes, but we can't be too loud. He's working in his office."

Gabriel and Sam bounded joyfully out the door, playfully nudging each other with their elbow. Dean and I trudged behind, walking slowly toward the car.

"So, I'll drop you off at school so you can get your car, and then I'll follow you back to your place?" Dean asked with a wide grin.

I nodded awkwardly. This had to be a dream, or some kind of practical joke. Dean Winchester was coming over to my house. He would see the couch that I lay on for hours, watching marathons of Doctor Who. He would see the table where my dysfunctional family sat each night to eat dinner. He would be entering my own private world, a world I had worked for years to isolate from the rest of humanity.

* * *

We arrived at my house, and I felt self conscious turning the key in the lock as I felt the Winchester brothers standing over me. I pulled open the door, and turned on the light, illuminating my living room and kitchen. Sam and Gabriel wasted no time, pushing past us and running upstairs into my brother's bedroom.

Dean and I stood alone, the other man swaying his body from side to side as he admired our home. He turned his face again toward me, and pulled his mouth to the side.

"So I guess it's just you and I now. What do you want to do?"

I thought of the possibilities. I considered watching television, but the silence between us could be uncomfortable. I thought about snacks, but remembered my full stomach that was swollen beneath my t-shirt. My mind fell on the last option.

"Um, we could go up to my room. I have a record player, so we could listen to something."

He beamed at this idea, and lifted his hand, a gesture allowing me to lead the way. I walked up the stairs slowly, my mind spinning as I silently articulated this situation. Dean Winchester was about to see my room.

I opened on the door switching on my light to expose the posters that covered my wall, the unmade bed in the corner, and the dirty clothes that littered my floor. He seemed to ignore the untidy state that my room was in, and walked around carefully examining each poster. He smiled at them, and then stopped before my Led Zeppelin poster.

"You like Zeppelin?" He asked, stepping back to take a seat on my bed.

I paused uncomfortably, and then sat down as well, making sure to keep an appropriate distance. "Yeah, they're one of my favorites. Jimmy Page is one of the greatest guitarists of all time."

He smiled widely, his eyes wrinkling at the corners. Then he turned to look at my record player, which sat on a small table, next to a pile of records. He shifted off the bed, sitting in front of the pile, and started filing through them.

"Wow, quite a collection you have here."

"Do you want to listen to one?" I asked, watching as he looked over each album cover, trying to find a band he was familiar with.

"Pick your favorite one, and we'll listen to that," he said, momentarily stopping to turn his head toward me, with a smile spread across his cheeks.

I pulled myself off the bed, and sat down on the floor next to him, taking the pile of records into my lap. I already knew which one I wanted, and stopped when I found it. "Raw Power" by Iggy and the Stooges.

"This is my favorite album," I said, holding it up so he could see the cover. He plucked it from my fingers, and proceeded to set it down on the player, carefully lowering the needle. _Gimme Danger _came blaring through the speakers, the opening guitar swirling through my room. I closed my eyes, momentarily forgetting about the presence of the other boy.

I felt my fingers tap on my knee to the beat, my mouth opening and closing as I mouthed the words. Something about this song made goosebumps sprout on my skin, my mind growing dizzy. I breathed in every note, every second of it.

I lost all sense of awareness of my surroundings for the remainder of the song, allowing myself to float away with the sound. As it came to a close, I sighed deeply, and slowly opened my eyes.

Dean was sitting next to me still, leaning his cheek on his hand as he watched my every move, his eyes melting over my face. His mouth was crooked, smiling gently as I ran my hand through my dark hair. He had shifted closer, our knees gently bumping together. He blinked several times when the song changed, straightening his back, and cleared his throat.

"Sorry about that, _Gimme Danger_ is one of my favorite songs," I whispered, almost breathless, as his bright green eyes bored into mine.

"Don't apologize," he whispered back, leaning forward. He smiled, looking down, and then back at me. "I- I like watching you."


	4. Chapter 4

Dean and Sam left my house after about an hour. For the remainder of the night, I stayed in my room, doing the math problems Mr. Crowley had assigned for homework. With my stomach still full, I felt my mind grow weary as I ran my pencil across the page. I picked up my phone, aiming to put on a song that would keep me awake while I finished my work, but before I could, a message popped up on the screen.

_**From 4075553452:**_

_**Hey, it's Dean. I hope you don't mind, but Gabriel gave your number to me. I had a good time tonight, next time you should show me some more of your music :)**_

I read each word over and over again, trying to imagine them in his voice, trying to imagine him sitting in his darkened room at this hour, typing this message to me. Two small words stuck out at me. Next time. Dean wanted there to be a next time?

I quickly saved his number in my contacts, and tapped my fingers against the surface of my notebook, deciding what to reply. I typed slowly, careful not to make any spelling or grammar mistakes, and then read it three times over before hitting send.

_**I had a good time too. I'm glad Gabe has Sam as a friend, he's a good kid. How about next time I introduce you to the Dickies and Stiff Little Fingers?**_

I had barely set my phone down before it vibrated again, Dean's name on my screen making my head spin.

_**From Dean Winchester:**_

_**Never heard of them. But if you like them, I'm sure I will too. I trust your judgement :)**_

Before responding, I finished the last few calculus problems, and shoved my notebook into my backpack. The rest of the house was quiet, my siblings either sleeping or working still, so I shut my light off, and crawled into bed, pulling the blanket over my bare chest. Then, I responded, catching myself smilling as I typed the words.

_**Well that would make you the… second person I know to like the same music as me. Why don't you tell me other favorite bands of yours?**_

I set my phone down on my stomach, rubbing my eyes to erase the weariness that grew in my body. I felt it vibrate again, from under the covers.

_**From Dean Winchester:**_

_**Led Zeppelin, as you know, AC/DC, Rolling Stones, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Bob Dylan, the Ramones, etc. But enough about me, tell me more about you. Like, what's your favorite movie?**_

I didn't even have to think before responding, that was an easy question.

_**Easy, Fight Club.**_

Without noticing, I stopped setting my phone down between each text sent. I kept it held in front of my face, my tired eyes squinting against the glow that illuminated my face in the otherwise pitch black room.

_**From Dean Winchester:**_

_**Solid choice. Favorite TV show?**_

That question was a bit more difficult. I couldn't narrow it down to one, so I instead chose three.

_**Hm, it's between Game of Thrones, Doctor Who, and Sherlock.**_

I was self conscious over delivering details of my life to Dean Winchester in the form of text messages. In sending each one, my mind mulled over the possibility of him finding me strange at my choices. Before I could see his response to my favorite television shows, I felt a blur nipping at the corner of my eyes, pulling me into a deep sleep.

* * *

I awoke the next morning, my hair piled on top of my head in a mess of dark wisps, my eyes struggling to open, pulled closed by unpleasantness that generally came with waking up at six o'clock in the morning. I trudged to the bathroom, turned on the shower, pulled my clothes off, and climbed in. I allowed the steamy water to fall on my face and neck, pulling me from the transition between asleep and awake. I stood there for a moment, lingering in the heat of the spray that felt good on my stiff muscles.

I looked at the time upon climbing out, and it was later than usual. I ran a towel quickly through my hair, pulled on a "the Clash" tshirt, and a pair of black jeans. Before running out the door with my backpack slung over my shoulder, I picked up my phone. I had an unread message from last night.

_**From Dean Winchester:**_

_**I love Game of Thrones and Sherlock, but I've never watched Doctor Who. Maybe there's something else you can introduce me to?**_

an hour after that text was sent, I received another.

_**From Dean Winchester:**_

_**I guess you fell asleep. I'll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, Cas :)**_

In the process of running down the stairs, I typed a hurried response, before yelling Gabriel's name to come downstairs.

_**Sorry, I did fall asleep. I think I went into a bit of a food comma after our pizza binge. See you in physics?**_

My brother was still no where in sight.

"Gabriel, we're going to be late if you don't get your ass down here!"

"I'm coming, Castiel! Just relax." At his words, my phone vibrated in my hands.

_**From Dean Winchester:**_

_**No worries. See you in physics :)**_

Gabriel came trailing down the stairs behind me, his hair sticking out in odd places, and purple bags framing his eyes. He had a disgruntled expression on his face, clearly not accustomed to the early start of high school.

"Gabriel, what did I tell you about high school? You have to go to sleep early or you won't be able to function in the morning."

He rolled his eyes at me, forcing past me and running out the front door toward his car. "Yeah, well I can see that now," he snapped, pulling open the passenger side door, and slumping down into the seat with his eyes closed.

I lifted my leg, and sat down in the driver seat, putting the keys in the ignition. Before I set my hands on the steering wheel and took my car out of park, I picked up my phone again, allowing my fingers to gloss over the words of my new friend, smiling as I read them in my mind again.

* * *

We arrived at school, the sky heavy with gray clouds as a sign it might rain. We got there several minutes later than usual, the parking lot already teeming with parked cars and students as they made their way until the building.

I parked my car, my eyes scanning the parking lot as I pulled myself out the driver's seat for that black chevy impala. It stood several spaces away, but the Winchester brothers were already gone. Gabriel and I made our way toward the building, and went our separate ways as we reached the front door. I walked briskly toward my locker, with only five minutes until the first bell rang.

I kept my head down, my arms crossed on my chest and I moved down the hallway, dodging groups of students who walked in groups to their first class. With my locker only several feet away, I felt a force struck me from behind, my backpack falling to the ground, and my body thrown into the set of lockers next to me.

I looked up to see Raphael, along with a group of people I recognized as Anna, Alastair, and Lilith. They all laughed as I slumped down the wall of lockers, my back and head aching. Raphael stepped forward, bobbing his head to look me in the eye with a menacing look plastered on his face.

"No one here likes you. Just go back to wherever you came from, loser." His words were followed by a howl of laughter from the students who stood behind him, and he kicked my backpack, making it slide several feet away. Before I could respond with a line that would probably get me assaulted again, I heard a deep voice come shouting down the hallway.

"Hey, Raphael, why don't you stop being a douche. What the hell did Cas ever did to you?"

I turned my head, and saw Dean stomping down the hallway with his fists balled up by his sides, and his jaw clenched.

Raphael laughed again. "Really Winchester? You're going to stand up for this fag-" His words were cut off as he was thrown against the lockers next to me. Dean pinned him back with his right hand on his shoulder, and his left arm pressing against his chest. He drew his face in, hovering close to Raphael's with anger lacing his eyes.

"If I ever hear you call him that again, I will kill you. Got that? Now why don't you and your empty headed buddies run off before I really hurt you."

I sat there, amazed at the fear that spread on Raphael's face, as the taller and stronger boy held him down. He held his hands up in surrender, as Dean began easing away. Dean turned his face and smiled at me, as I sat still on the floor, eyes wide with surprise.

He tried to take a step toward me, but the side of his face was immediately met with the fist of the other boy. He stumbled back in shock, and then lunged forward to again press Raphael against the lockers, his fist wrapping around the fabric of the boys shirt. His first was hanging high in the air, in anticipation of swinging down against Raphael, but before he could do so, Mr. Turner came running down the hallway.

"Dean Winchester, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Dean let go, taking a step back, but his eyes still mad with fury. He stood between the two boys, peering at the side of Dean's face where a purple bruise was beginning to form.

His face turned to Raphael, who looked at the floor, trying to hide the fact that he had started the fight. The teacher shook his head in disappointment, and leaned over to grab the arm of Raphael, in promise of taking him to the principle's office. Before he walked away, he turned back to Dean.

"Dean, I'm disappointed in you. It's only the third day of school. First, I caught you with th-that _note_, and now, I see you trying to fight another boy in the hallway? You know better than that. Next time I see you acting out, I will talk to your Uncle."

Dean did not respond, but kept his eyes aimed at the ground, his hand pressing against the side of his face, slightly wincing in pain.

I pulled myself off the floor, grabbing my backpack as I stood, and ran toward Dean. Before he could say a word to me, I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the nearby men's restroom, closing and locking the door behind us.

"Dean, what the hell was that?" I asked as I grabbed a paper towel and turned on the tap to run it under the cold water.

"What? I can't stand up for you?" he paused and winced as I pressed the paper towel against the purple mark under his eye. "That kid… he's a dick. And you don't deserve that."

I looked at him, his eyes filled with sincerity as he looked back. "You don't have to worry about it. It's not the first time I've been thrown against some lockers. It's really not a big deal."

He gently pushed my hand away as I dabbed the damp paper towel over his skin. His green eyes pierced mine. "Yes. Yes it is a big deal. So you're different. So fucking what? So you don't conform to social norms, and you don't chase after stupid girls in short skirts, who gives a fuck? That's what makes you special. I mean, that's why I…" he trailed off, taking a step back to lean against the sink.

"That's why you, what?" I asked, balling up the paper towel and throwing it into the trash can behind me.

"Never mind."

I brushed it off, more concerned with the swelling that had already started across his otherwise flawless skin. "Are you sure you're okay?" I asked, my eyes squinting in worry.

He chuckled softly. "Yeah, I'm used to this kind of thing too."

I moved, and leaned up against the sink next to him, turning my chin to face him. I held my hand up slowly, shakily setting it down on his shoulder. "Thank you, Dean," I whispered with a smile.

He grinned back. "Don't mention it. And I would do it again. Next time those neanderthals give you a hard time, you tell me, okay?" His eyes were serious at his words.

I nodded slowly. "Okay." I said back softly. It would, after all, be nice to have someone on my side. Then my mind fell on a different subject. "Dean, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Well, I noticed Mr. Turner got kind of… uncomfortable when he read that note yesterday in class. If you don't mind me asking… What did it say?" I bowed my face but kept my eyes aimed up at him in embarrassment, not quite sure if it was okay to ask that question.

He laughed, and blushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "Well, you asked me… why I wanted to hang out with you, right? And, I-I said… because there's something about you. Something that draws me in. You're different, and I like that. I-I like you… Cas." His eyes softened at the end of his words.

I blushed wildly, my mind growing dizzy as I stood at a loss for words. His eyes remained on me, studying every inch of my face as my mouth subconsciously broke into a wide smile. He laughed, and pushed himself away from the sink.

"What do you say we get out of here? You know, go take a drive or something. I really don't feel up to sitting in a classroom today," he asked, picking his back pack off the floor.

I thought about it. With everything that had happened in the first 5 minutes of my arrival, I imagined the day would only get worse if I stayed at school. _Fuck it._

"Sure," I said with a smile, picking my backpack up and following him happily out the door.

The hallway was empty at this point, class having started a few minutes before, except for Dean Winchester and I, making our way to the front door, skipping our third day of school, together.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for their follows, favorites, and lovely comments. It certainly means a lot that I'm getting such a positive reaction to my first Destiel AU. I hope you continue to enjoy the story. I have quite a few ideas for these two, so I will be updating as regularly as I can! x**

"Where are we going, Dean?" I asked, sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala as he sang along quietly to "Traveling Riverside Blues" by Led Zeppelin, the school disappearing from view behind us.

"I have an idea, but it's a surprise," he said back, smirking softly. I rang my hands in my lap nervously, and then glanced at Dean who was completely relaxed, drumming his fingers on his steering wheel to the beat of his music. I assumed by his confident composure that he was a veteran when it came to skipping school.

"So have you ever skipped school before?" he asked, turning his face toward me so I could see the purple bruise that fell over his cheekbone. I shook my head, turning to face the window as I watched the street go by in a blur. "I don't think I ever had a reason to."

He laughed at my response and then paused as he noticed my anxiety. "Don't worry Cas, you won't get in any trouble. I do it all the time." I turned my face toward him and tried to muster a smile, but my true feelings were obvious in my eyes. "You can trust me, okay?" he said, raising one hand and placing it on my shoulder. I nodded.

After a few more moments we were turning off the main street, and down a dirt road, surrounded by trees. The path forced the car to bump up and down, rocking me back and forth in the drivers seat. As I looked ahead, I saw a gap in the trees, that opened up a wider area. It was a small field, set on a slope that ran into a wide lake. It was lovely, the grass as green as Dean's eyes, and the lake was smooth and glassy.

"So, what do you think?" Dean said, putting the car in park. I smiled, knowing I could trust him.

"It's beautiful," I said softly. "How did you know about this place?"

He pushed open the door, letting the cool air flood the space around me. The gentle wind rustled through my hair, and the smell of trees wafted across my nose. "Me and Sam used to come down here all the time, usually at night. We'd sit on the hood of my car and watch the stars." He climbed out, bending his head to look at me, smiling. "Come on," he said. tilting his head toward the grass.

I opened the passenger side door, and climbed out, stretching my arms above my head. He walked ahead of me, the grass crunching beneath his every step. He settled down at the top of the slope, sitting with his with legs outstretched before him. I slumped down next to him, pulling my knees to my chest.

He reached into the pocket of his dark brown leather jacket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He held the pack to his mouth, clasping one between his lips, and meeting the end of it with a lighter. He took a deep drag, and let the milky smoke fall from his lips.

"You want one?" he asked, holding the pack out to me. I hesitated, but took one, placing it in my mouth, and accepting the lighter from Dean's other hand. I didn't smoke regularly, but had tried them a few times with Balthazar. The smoke burned my throat, but was successful at easing my nerves.

"So, this morning was… productive," Dean chuckled, putting the cigarette in his mouth again.

I rolled my eyes, remembering what had occurred. "Raphael has always had it out to get me. I have no idea why though, I don't think I've ever said more than two words to him."

"I'm pretty sure the guy is threatened by anything or anyone that rejects his standards of normalcy. His head is so far up the ass of high school that he's lost the ability to understand that some people find more to life than unintelligent girls and football games."

I laughed at that, taking another drag of my cigarette. "But Dean, you're… pretty popular too." I said, getting more accustomed to the sting of the smoke.

"Yeah, but not by choice. I've always been myself, never once putting up a front to feel more accepted. The whole high school thing, cliques and popularity, it's bullshit. There's people like Raphael, whose best years of life will be spent in those halls, and then there's people like you and I, who know high school is where you spend the last four years of hell before life really begins."

I smirked, frowning slightly at the idea of Dean and I being in the same category again. Dean took one last drag of his cigarette, and then tossed it on the ground in front of him, crushing it into the grass with his shoe. I followed his lead, the sensation of nicotine making my head spin mildly.

He reached into his pocket again, this time pulling out his phone. He unlocked it, exposing his wallpaper which was a picture of him and Sam, smiling widely in front of the Chevy Impala. He opened his music, scrolling through his library, as I noticed the names of songs I recognized, and others I didn't. He turned to me, smiling.

"So, you know Bob Dylan?" he asked, his face tilting slightly down but his green eyes aimed up at me.

"Of course I do," I replied, my mind mulling over the names of his songs that I was familiar with. He nodded, and opened up a list of his songs. He pressed shuffle, allowing the gentle sound of harmonica to trickle out of the speakers.

"Ah, this is one of my favorites," he said, falling back on the grass with his arms behind his head, closing his eyes. He began to sing along with the words quietly.

_"You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last. But whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast. Yonder stands your orphan with his gun, crying like a fire in the sun."_

I looked down at him, watching every move of his lips as they traced the syllables of each word. He was beautiful.

His golden brown hair shone in the bright light of the sun, moving slightly under the gentle force of the wind. His eyes were closed, his eyelids thin and pale, contrasting against his long dark eyelashes. His skin, tanned and smooth, was moving around his cheeks as his mouth opened and closed. I counted the freckles that sprinkled his nosed, and ran my eyes against the purple bruise that flourished on his cheekbone. His battle scar, that he had received when protecting me.

_"__Look out the saints are comin' through. And it's all over now, Baby Blue,"_ he sang quietly, my stomach fluttering, and my heart pounding against my chest as I watched him breathe out each word.

I felt my face hovering closer to him, my blue eyes melting over every inch of his face. Something magnetic was drawing me in, something I couldn't fight even if I wanted to. Before I knew it, my lips were filling the space above his, gentle pressing down on his mouth, silencing his singing. His breathe tasted like the sweet smoke of cigarettes, and his lips were soft. He froze, pulling his head off the ground in surprise of the unexpected touch.

I pulled back, shifting my body away from him, and aimed my face at the ground, chastising myself for what I had just done. "I'm so sorry," I whispered, refusing to look up.

"Cas," he whispered, shifting his body toward mine. I felt his hand under my chin, pulling my face up. "It's okay," he said softly, before pulling my face towards him again, letting our lips press together. This time, I felt his mouth moving slowly against mine, his hand sliding down my jaw and to my neck. I lingered in his warmth, gently placing my hand on his shoulder, my mind spinning at the kiss.

He pulled back after a moment, and looked steadily in my eyes, his face still only inches away. He smiled, and brought his other hand to rest upon mine, intertwining his fingers in mine.

"I didn't think you were gay," I said, keeping my eyes locked on his. My mind flickered back to the times when I had watched pretty girls fawn over him at school. He chuckled at my statement.

"Uh, I'm not. I think I'm bisexual. Are you gay?"

"I don't know. I mean, I've never really thought about it. I don't think gender is something I consider when I feel attracted towards someone."

He smiled, and shifted his hand from my neck to my cheek, running his thumb gently around my eye. The song was still playing, my ears finding the sound as my head stopped spinning.

_Strike another match, go start a new. And it's all over now, Baby Blue._

"Hey, Baby Blue," he whispered, leaning his forehead against mine. "That's like you, you know, with your eyes."

I smiled, breathless as his lips pressed against mine again, moving slowly as I placed my hand behind his head. Three days ago I had never spoken to Dean Winchester, and now here I was, kissing him when we should be sitting in a classroom. Somehow I enjoyed this better.

He pulled back again, removing his hand from my cheek. "Are you hungry?" he asked with a smile.

"Starving," I said, realizing it would be almost time for lunch at school, and I hadn't eaten breakfast that morning.

"Want to go back to mine? My uncle should be home and I'm sure he'd make us something."

"He wouldn't be mad that you're not a school?" I asked, knowing my older brothers would be furious if they found out.

"Nah, he'd understand, considering the circumstance," he said, raising his hand to brush against his bruised cheek.

I nodded, and we stood to head back to his parked car, his hand clasped around mine.

* * *

After about 20 minutes of driving, we pulled up to a small blue house, settled at the end of a dirt driveway, with a long porch on the front of the house. He parked to the side of the house, putting his car into park. When we reached the front door, he jiggled the doorknob. Realizing it was unlocked, he pushed it open with a creak, and poked his head through.

"Bobby?" he called, looking around the room. "Bobby, I left school early. I want you to meet someone," he called again, smiling back at me.

Suddenly I heard an unfamiliar voice come from another room. "You what?"

Through a doorway came an older man, with a thick mustache that covered his top lip, and a beard. His hair was hidden underneath a tattered baseball cap, and his hands were smudged black with car oil.

"Who this?" he asked upon seeing me, grabbing a towel from a table to wipe off his hands.

"Bobby, this is Castiel Novak. Cas, this is my uncle, Bobby Singer."

I held out my hand with a smile, and he shook it eagerly. "So, you're the Castiel I've heard so much about."

I smiled again, looking at Dean who was rolling his eyes in embarrassment. I wondered what Dean had said about me to his uncle. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Singer."

"Please, call me Bobby."

Bobby turned toward Dean, grabbing his chin and turning his face to examine the bruise on his cheek.

"What the hell happened to your face, boy?" he asked with a frown.

"Some asshole at school punched me. That's why we left school." Dean said, his jaw clenching at the thought of Raphael.

"Dean, what did I say about you getting in fights?" Bobby said sternly, crossing his arms against his chest.

"It was barely a fight, I didn't even hit him back. Plus he was being an asshole to Cas."

Bobby let his arms fall by his sides, looking at me. "Is that true, Castiel?" he asked, sympathy filling his eyes.

"Yeah," I responded, "he shoved me against some lockers. Dean was just standing up for me."

He nodded. "Well, you did the right thing, Dean. But if it happens again, stay at school, idjit."

Dean nodded with a chuckle, and started walking toward the kitchen. He turned towards me, gesturing me to follow him. "Do you have any food, Bobby? Me and Cas are pretty hungry," Dean said. I held my hand to my empty stomach, feeling it growl.

"I have some left over chili, if you want to heat that up. I'd cook for you but I have to head back to the garage in a few minutes," Bobby said as Dean opened the fridge, pulling out a plastic container full of chili.

"Yeah, that's fine, thanks Bobby," Dean said, opening the container and pouring it into a bowl. I shuffled over awkwardly next to Dean, not sure where to stand as he walked busily around the kitchen, preparing our food.

"If you boys are going to hang around here for a while, I can run to the grocery store on the way home and pick up some pie." Dean looked up happily at the words, licking his lips.

"Well, Cas and I have to drive back to school in a couple of hours and pick up Gabriel and Sam. We could grab some on the way home, and the five of us could share it?" Dean said to Bobby, rushing to a draw and pulling out two spoons.

Bobby nodded, and walked over to a table, grabbing a set of keys. "Well, I'll be off then. Make yourself at home, Castiel. Make sure you clean up after yourself, Dean."

"See you later Bobby!" Dean called out, as the older man walked out the front door. When I heard the bang of the front door closing, Dean gestured over to the kitchen table with two bowls of hot chili in his hands.

"So, what do you want to do now?" I asked, graciously taking the bowl from him, and sitting down at the table. I pushed a spoonful into my mouth, the taste of it made me realize just how hungry I was. Soon I was digging in, eating the chili quickly.

Dean stood there for a moment, contemplating something, and then ran upstairs. After a few seconds, he was running back down with a laptop in his hands.

"We're going to borrow Sam's laptop, and you're going to introduce me to Doctor Who."

I smiled at the idea of him wanting to watch one of my favorite shows with me. It was a change to Balthazar who normally cringed at the thought of doing something I wanted to do.

I opened up the lid of the laptop, and searched for Netflix. I logged into my account, and found the pilot of Doctor Who, laughing at the prospect of Dean's reaction to the special effects.

As I leaned back in my chair, getting comfortable for the episode, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw an unread text on my screen.

_**From Balthazar: **_

_**Where are you Cassy? I'm sitting at lunch alone.**_

I felt momentarily guilty at the thought of my friend sitting alone while I sat comfortably, enjoying a bowl of chili while watching Netflix. But as I looked over at Dean, who was leaning forward his eyes dancing over the screen as the opening credits played, I smiled.

_**I'm at Dean's house. Sorry. Want to hangout after school tomorrow?**_

I put my phone down, and turned my attention back to the screen, seeing Dean grin widely at me out of the corner of my eye.


	6. Chapter 6

"So the guy is a… a Time Lord?" Dean asked, as we walked out the door toward the Impala, knowing it was time to pick our younger brothers up from school.

"Yes, Dean."

"And- and he can travel through time and space in that police box? What's it called? A-"

"Tardis."

"That is so badass."

I laughed, swinging open the passenger door of the Impala and climbing into the seat. "Well, I'm glad you liked it." Dean grinned widely at me and then proceeded to turn on the radio. He started bobbing his head enthusiastically to the AC/DC song that blared through the speakers.

"I have to say I was a little skeptical about the whole Sci-Fi thing at first, but I knew could trust your judgement," Dean said with a smile. His eyes hovered for a moment before he averted his eyes to the road and continued to speak. "So, you don't feel too guilty about skipping school, do you?" He asked, genuine concern lingering in his eyes in contrast to the insincere smirk on his face.

"No, not really. I'd much rather spend a day watching Doctor Who than sitting in a classroom pretending to pay attention to mind-numbing lectures about electromagnetism." The last few hours spent at Bobby's house had made my anxiety virtually disappear.

"Well look at you, Mr. Carefree. I think I'm a bad influence on you," Dean said, his pouting lips breaking into a laugh.

By the time we pulled up to the school, Gabriel and Sam were already standing outside, chatting busily without noticing our arrival. Dean pulled into a nearby parking spot, and honked the horn. The two younger boys sighed in relief as they turned to face us, and walked swiftly to the car.

I turned to Dean, who was again bobbing his head to the music. "My car's still at school. Should Gabe and I go in mine, and then meet you back at your house? Well… if that's still what you want to do."

"Of course I do, Cas. But nah, I can just drop you back here later."

I nodded subtly, hearing the sound of the back doors opening, and our younger brothers sliding across the leather seats. Dean turned down the volume of the music, and put the car in reverse.

"Where the hell were you guys today?" Gabriel called from the back seat, as we made our way out of the parking lot.

"Yeah, and what happened to your face, Dean?" Sam joined in.

"I swear, the next person who asks me about my face, I'm gonna start throwing punches. And we decided to skip, go down by the lake, you know, where we used to go, Sammy."

Although in the pit of my gut I felt guilty about my absence from school today, today had been the best day I had in a while. My worries returned slightly when Gabriel was made aware of me skipping school, but as long as he didn't tell Michael or Luke, I should be safe from repercussions.

"Castiel, you've never skipped school before, and more importantly, you've never let _me_ skip school before."

I rolled my eyes, and looked at my brother through the rear view mirror, who had his arms crossed over his chest. "That's because Dean and I are seniors. You're a freshman, and there's no need for you to skip a day of high school when you've only just begun."

Dean intervened from the drivers seat, holding his hand up to stop Gabriel from retaliating. "Okay, you two, that's enough fighting. We need to focus on the important thing here. What type of pie are we going to get?"

Dean's question sent a wave of laughter through the car, ending any hostility between my brother and I. Before any of us could respond, Dean began blurting out every flavor of pie that popped into his head, counting them on his fingers.

I looked at him with a smile on my face, and then shifted my eyes to the backseat where my brother and the younger Winchester chatted happily. I wondered when the four of us had become an accustomed thing, and wondered if it would continue.

* * *

The sun had gone down, and the four of us sat around Bobby's kitchen table, scraping the last crumbs of cherry pie out of it's container. Dean leaned back in his chair, clutching his full stomach. His tongue licked at the corner of his lips where a smudge of pie filling stuck. He looked at me, his eyes smiling along with his mouth, and stood to collect the dirty dishes.

"Gabriel, it's getting pretty late. We should probably head home. Dean said he would drop us off at my car since it's still at school," I said, standing to gather my belongings.

My brother nodded, and groaned when he stood, slapping Sam on the shoulder. We said our goodbyes to the younger Winchester, and then headed to the front door, Dean following us with his keys jingling in his hand.

As we drove down the darkened road I hoped my older brothers would be already sleeping or still working. Although I was sure I had gotten away with skipping school, it would be easier to not have to lie at all. Gabriel sat in the backseat, tired from our pie binge.

The school was completely deserted, only my own car in sight. It looked different at night, without the masses of students and other cars.

"Why don't you get in the car, Gabriel? I'll meet you there in a second," I said to my younger brother, handing him the keys. He groaned in response, taking the keys out of my hand, and running off to the car that sat several spaces away.

As I watched him climb in the passenger side, and close the door behind him, I turned my attention to Dean.

"I think, we… need to talk about what happened earlier. We've kind of been ignoring it all day," I said, not looking him in the eye.

"What do you mean? When we kissed?" he said, smirking slightly at his words.

I nodded, still aiming my eyes at my lap. I felt a gentle hand underneath my chin, tilting it up so I would meet Dean's eyes with my own.

"Don't stress out about it, Cas. We don't need to over think it."

At his words I shifted in my seat, moving my body away from him slightly. I reached for my bag, and started opening the door to climb out, only to be caught by Dean's hand.

"What did I say something wrong?" he asked when I looked back at him. His brow was furrowed and his eyes were filled with concern.

"There's no need to be polite, Dean. I kissed you, and you didn't like it. Don't worry, I won't try it ag-"

Before I could finish my words I was cut off with the force of his lips against mine. For a moment I thought about whether or not my younger brother could see us from the seat in my car, but soon my mind went dizzy, and the world around us melted away.

Dean pulled away, and parted his lips to speak.

"Don't say that. Castiel Novak, I like you. I really do, and I'm not exactly sure what it is, but something about you draws me in. I like spending time with you, and today was the most fun I've had in a long time. What I was trying to say is, let's not over analyze it. We have time to figure this all out."

I nodded again, this time smiling softly. "Thank you for a wonderful day, Dean." I set my hand over his, squeezing his fingers gently.

"When can I see you again, Cas? Tomorrow?"

"I promised Balthazar I would see him tomorrow," I said, feeling guilty about leaving my friend behind while I spent the day with Dean. "But the day after that is Friday, so how about then?"

Dean nodded, and grinned at the prospect of hanging out again. I smiled back and this time successfully made it out the passenger side door.

* * *

The house was quiet and mostly dark by the time we got home, the only light being the glow of Michael's office. I quickly said goodnight to Gabriel and ran up stairs to my room, changing out of my jeans.

I slid under the covers, allowing my weary body to sink into the mattress. Although I was tired, my mind was my moving at a million miles per hour, and sleeping was not yet an option. Instead I unlocked my phone, searching through my contacts until I found the name of my friend. I pressed call, and listened to the gentle dial tone against my ear.

"Hey Cassy," a voice spoke from the other end when the dialing cut off.

"Hi Balthazar. I just wanted to apologize again for leaving you alone at school. This morning was… eventful, to say the least."

"Don't sweat it, Cassy. I heard about your little incident with Raphael and that your knight in shining armor came to the rescue."

I smiled gently at the thought of Dean standing up to Raphael to protect me. "Well, that wasn't even the most interesting part…" I said quietly into the phone.

"So, what was?"

I paused before speaking, unsure if I should tell my friend about my time with Dean at the lake. After a moment's contemplation, I realized I he knew almost everything about me. "I, uh… I kissed him."

"Wait, who?" he replied, his shocked voice piercing my ear in the silence of my room.

"Dean…"

"And did he kiss you back?" He asked, this time his voice sounding calmer.

"Well, yes… and then he kissed me again, just a little while ago."

"Damn, who would ever think Dean Winchester is gay," he muttered, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"He's not. He's bi. I mean, I never knew _I_ was gay."

"Well, who cares? I certainly don't. What I'm more concerned about is you getting hurt. No offense, but you're not the usual type Dean Winchester goes for. You know, you're not a blonde cheerleader. If he ever hurts you, tell me, okay?" His tone was serious and unwavering as he spoke the last words.

"Okay, okay, I will," I replied, rolling my eyes although he could not see. "I'm not over thinking it though, it was just a kiss."

Balthazar chuckled on the other side of the line. "Yeah, you not over thinking something? That'll be the day. Just promise me you won't get too tied up in him. And promise me you won't forget about me."

"You're still my best friend, Balthazar. I won't forget about you. Anyway, it's not a big deal. It was probably just a one time thing."

"You mean a two time thing?" Balthazar laughed, as I rolled my eyes again. "Anyway, I have to finish some French homework. I'll call you back later if you're still up."

"Okay, bye Balthy," I said in a sneering tone with a laugh.

"Bye Cassy," he replied, before the line went silent.

I sunk my head back into my pillow, closing my eyes, and trying to allow my busy mind to fall asleep. After a moment of complete silent darkness, my phone began ringing again. Without looking at the name on the screen, I answered it, bringing it up to my ear.

"That was fast. You're done with your French homework?"

"Cas?" came a different voice.

"Dean?"

"Yeah," Dean chuckled. "Who were you expecting?"

"Sorry, I just got off the phone with my friend. I wasn't exactly expecting to get a call from you."

"Yeah, well uh… sorry it's kind of late. Bobby and Sam went to sleep a little bit ago, so I just wanted to see if you were still up."

"Well, here I am."

Dean laughed again, causing my stomach to swirl. "I had a really good time today, Cas."

"So did I," I spoke shyly, not sure of what to say.

"If you want to hangout on Friday, you could come back to my place. Bobby has an old record player too, so you could bring some of your records. It's probably not as nice as yours, but it works."

"Yeah, uh… that sounds nice."

"Okay," Dean said, his tone changing as he smiled against the phone. "You sound tired, so I'll let you go to sleep. I just… I wanted to hear your voice."

"See you tomorrow in physics?" I said with a smile on my lips.

"Yeah, of course. Save a seat for me," he chuckled. "Sweet dreams, Cas."

"Goodnight, Dean."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I'm so sorry I haven't updated this in a while. I've had a very busy summer so far with volunteering and vacations. I promise I'll update more often from here on out, and thank you all for being patient :)**

The time between waking up the next morning and arriving at school went by in a blur. The coffee that was usually able to pull me from my near comatose state met little success. My weary mind focused on the black road before my car while Gabriel's busy chatting went through one ear and out the other. Even the walk from the parking lot to my seat in the physics classroom, which was usually an attempt at avoiding Raphael and his group by keeping my head down, was today a untroubled and effortless trudge.

The only thing to pull me out of my trance so early in the morning was the same voice that had been the source of my lack of sleep.

"Mornin', Cas," Dean said, tugging on his backpack strap with a grin on his face. "Good, you remembered to save me a seat," he continued, pulling his backpack onto the table and slumping down next to me.

I rubbed my tired eyes and then ran a hand through my dark hair, feeling that my lack of concern this morning had left my hair sticking up in all directions. I pulled my hood up to hide the mess, and then leant my cheek on my arm which rested on the table. "As if anyone would sit there anyway. Most people don't want to be seen with the weird kid," I answered, looking up at him with one eye closed, smirking shyly.

"Well, aren't you glad I'm not most people?" he smirked back, leaning towards me. I glanced at him, his eyes softening as they hovered over my face. There was a moment of silence between us as I brought my face up and parted my lips to speak. Before any words could fall out I was interrupted by a voice that came from behind Dean.

"Hi, Dean," Lisa spoke with a wide grin, flipping her dark hair over one shoulder. Trailing behind her was Jo and Anna, who fidgeted where they stood excitedly.

"Sup Lisa." Dean said, pulling his mouth to one side in a warm smile. I rolled my eyes and let my head fall back into it's resting position on my arm. I pulled my hood over my ears, attempting to block out the following conversation.

"Do you have any plans for the weekend?"

"Well, uh, I don't really plan ahead much, but I'll probably be helping out in my uncle's garage, hanging with my little brother, same old." Despite my efforts I heard every word clearly, and felt my fist tighten as I wondered whether Dean remembered his proposition of hanging out at his house on Friday.

"Well, um, my parents are out of town and the three of us were thinking of throwing a little party on Saturday night. Do you want to come?" Lisa asked, tilting her head to one side.

"I guess I'll see what I'm up to, but I'll let you know." Dean said, shifting his body slightly to face me once again.

"Just text me, okay? You have my number," Lisa replied backing away awkwardly, bumping into her two friends as she did. Dean nodded in response and then turned fully to face me.

I felt a hand tug at my hood, exposing my bed head entirely. Dean smiled down at me and ran his pink tongue over his bottom lip.

"You know, you shouldn't really be wearing your hood up inside, it's against the rules." he chuckled, leaning in closer to me. "Plus, you look good with messy hair," he whispered, the words raspy as they fell from his lips. His mouth pulled into a subtle smirk as he pulled his body away, keeping his eyes on me.

Mr. Turner cleared his throat, his usual way of telling us to be quiet. "Alright class, it's time for your first project." A communal groan erupted from the students, several tossing their heads back in displeasure. "Now, now," he continued, pressing his hands on the surface of his desk. "I told you I'd start the class off easy so it's a simple project. I'm giving you the assignment now, so you have today and tomorrow to work on it in class, as well as the weekend. All you have to do is make a slide show, explaining the three Newtonian Laws. I will hand out a rubric explaining it in detail, and I will allow you to work with a partner."

At the last word the following members of the class began whispering busily, some trying to catch the attention of their friends, silently asking them if they wanted to be partners.

"Wait," Mr. Turner said, ending the mass whispering. "I'm going to go down the roll, and ask you each who you want to partner up with. We have an even number of students so there will be no groups of three. Understand?" Mr. Turner said, his eyes peeking over the top rim of his glasses. He picked up his clip board, and adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose. "I'll start at the bottom of the alphabet this time. So Dean, who do you want to be partners with?"

I looked over at Lisa who fidgeted in her seat, brushing her hair behind her ear, with her expectant eyes set on the boy who sat next to me. Dean drummed his fingers on the surface of the table and pouted his lips pensively.

"I'll be partners with Cas, I mean, Castiel." At the sound of my name I picked my head up, and fought the smile that threatened to appear on my mouth. Lisa sunk back into her chair, shock filling her eyes. Other students flicked the heads in our direction, furrowing their brows. Dean kept his eyes on Mr. Turner, a grin on his face.

Our teacher kept his eyes sternly on the Winchester boy, and then wrote a single word on the paper of the clipboard. When he called the next name, Dean turned his head toward me, and smirked at the smile that I could no longer hide.

"So, how about when you come over on friday, well- if that's still what you want to do…" Dean paused, tilting his head to the side in question. I nodded. "you can spend the night. We'll finish up the project on Saturday during the day, and then you can accompany me to Lisa's part at night," he finished with another flick of his tongue against his lips.

"The party? I don't think I was invited Dean…" I said quietly, rubbing the back of my neck.

Dean scoffed at my statement, and rolled his head back. "Okay then…" Dean said, leaning toward me once again, resting his chin on his palm. "Dear, Castiel Novak. You are cordially invited to accompany me to Lisa Braden's party. This Saturday. Love, Dean Winchester." He finished with a chuckle, tilting his eyes toward the floor for a moment.

"I'll think about it, Dean," I said, rolling my eyes and grinning back.

"Deal."

* * *

The rest of the day dragged on much like the morning had. I spent my lunch at my usual table with Balthazar rambling on mindlessly about a conversation he overheard two fellow classmates having earlier that morning. We discussed our plans that afternoon, and decided upon going to a nearby record store.

My last classes consisted of typical mind numbing lectures. I ran my pencil over my paper, taking notes of each and every word my teachers said, but not actually absorbing the information. When my teacher fell silent, and the class filled with sounds of zipping backpacks and crumpling papers, I watched the second hand on the clock tick until the comforting sound of the bell struck my ears.

I walked out the front door, to the parking lot and saw Balthazar already waiting, leaning against the hood of my car. Before I took more than five steps toward him, I was ambushed by the sound of my brother's voice.

"Cas, can I go to Sam and Dean's for a while? I promise I'll get all my homework done, and Dean said he would give me a ride home."

"I guess so. But you need to text Michael or Luke to let them know you won't be home until later, and I want you home by 8," I said lifting my head to see Dean and Sam standing several yards away where the Impala was parked. Dean raised his hand and waved, a gesture that inferred he had agreed to give him a ride home later.

I lifted my hand in return, and turned back to my brother. "Text me when you're own your way home, okay?" I said, taking a step away from him.

He nodded in response and ran hurriedly to catch up with the two Winchester brothers. Dean slapped him warmly on the shoulder, and smiled. Gabe grinned back, and then pulled himself into the back seat of the Impala. Before Dean opened the driver's side door, he paused and his eyes fell on me. It was reminiscent of the way he had looked at me a few days before, all the feelings of that moment returning to my body like the tide.

As I reached my car where my friend stood, he shifted his body off the hood and moved toward the passenger door.

"So, what? Have you and the Winchesters just combined your families now?" Balthazar said with a slight laugh in his voice.

I sat down in the driver's seat of my car, as he did the same in the passenger seat. Before responding to his sneering question I pulled my backpack onto my lap and began fishing through the front pocket for my wallet.

"No," I said softly as I opened the black leather wallet and thumbed through the fold that held my cash. I counted 25 dollars, before setting the wallet in the cup holder of my car. "Sam and Gabriel are just good friends, and Dean and I-"

"Are lovers? spouses? soulmates?" Balthazar interrupted me, finishing off his words by cupping his chin with his hands, and batting his eyelashes zealously.

I rolled my eyes and punched his shoulder. He clutched the spot and widened his eyes with mock mortification. I pushed my keys into the ignition and started my car, speeding out of my parking space and turning down the road toward the record store.

"We're not anything. We kissed one time."

"Twice."

"Whatever," I groaned, turning on my car's CD player and finding a track. "Just give it a rest, Balthazar. I told you, I'm not over analyzing anything."

"Okay, okay." Balthazar said, this time holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Just remember, don't let him hurt you, Cassy. You're my bestfriend, and if he does, I will smite the bastard."

I laughed at his threat and pulled into the parking space of the record store. It was small, hole-in-the-wall kind of place, nestled between a travel agency, and a seemingly deserted bike shop. The windows on the front of the gray building were plastered with band posters of the Grateful Dead, David Bowie, the Sex Pistols, and Jimi Hendrix. Above the door was a flickering neon sign that said _Rock 'n' Roll Heaven_. It was an old shop, dusty and cluttered with hundreds of records.

We opened the front door and were met with a warm smile from the middle aged man who sat behind the front counter. We moved habitually to the back room and shuffled through the narrow isles to the sectioned labeled "punk/rock." I scanned the tabs that stuck out and divided the records into bands until I saw one that intrigued me. After searching in silence for a few moments, I pulled out the album _Younger, Louder, & Snottier_ by the Dead Boys. My eyes flickered to the corner where the bright orange price tag read $18.99.

Balthazar and I walked to the cash register with our chosen records in hand and set them before the shop's owner. He looked down at our choices and then looked up with a smile.

"Excellent choices, boys," he said, taking our money and placing the records in a plastic bag that had a smiley face and the words "thank you" printed on it.

We thanked him and grabbed the bags, walking toward the front door.

"That was faster than usual. I can't remember the last time I spent less that an hour in there," Balthazar said, pulling out his record, _Singles Going Steady_ by the Buzzcocks, to admire the album cover once more.

"Well, you can always come back to mine? We can listen to them, have a bite to eat."

"Yeah, why not. Any excuse to not go home and start my homework."

* * *

It was now dark, and after spending the rest of the evening listening to each of our albums, and eating a meal of leftover lasagna, Balthazar sat on my couch watching Doctor Who reruns, tucking into bowls of chocolate ice cream. The dialogue of the show was interrupted with a knock on the front door.

I groaned, not wanting to get up from my potato-like position on the couch. I looked at the clock and saw it was just before 8 o'clock. "Balthazar, can you go get that? It's probably Gabriel."

"Why do I have to get it? You lazy bum…" Balthazar groaned as he stood up and trudged slowly to the front door. I kept my eyes glued on the screen as I heard the door creak open.

"Oh, hi Balthazar." I heard my brother say as he took a step in the house and dropped his backpack by the front door. Balthazar did not speak, but kept the door wide open and cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Cassy, I think you have a visitor," he said, making my head snap around. He stood staring out the doorway, but whoever was there was blocked from my vision. He turned his head toward me and furrowed his brow. I set my bowl of ice cream down and pulled myself off the couch, walking toward my friend. I slid past him and met a set of green eyes staring back at me from beyond the doorframe.

"Hi, Cas." Dean said with a smile. I opened my mouth but struggled to find the words. I turned toward Balthazar who was leaning against the wall behind me with his arms crossed, and an intrigued expression on his face.

"Oh, sorry," he said, his body going rigid. "Why don't I give you two some alone time?" he spoke cheerfully, skipping off to settle back down on the couch. I turned back to Dean, who was dressed in a dark green army jacket rather than the usual brown leather one.

"Hello, Dean. Thank you for bringing Gabriel home on time." I said, leaning my head against the doorframe.

He chuckled. "It's no problem, I wouldn't have come to the door if I knew you had a friend over," he responded flickering his eyes over to where Balthazar sat on the couch. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"I don't think he minds, he practically lives here" I said, taking a step toward Dean. "Why did you come up to the door?"

"I just wanted to see you for a little bit. I was kinda bummed that you couldn't come over tonight."

"Well, do you still want to see me tomorrow?" I said, fiddling with the sleeve of my sweater.

"Do you really have to even ask that question?" Dean asked, setting his finger under my chin and tilting it up to face him. He took a step in, and I watched his green eyes flicker from my eyes to my lips momentarily, and then back up again. His face inched closer and the familiar smell made my head grow dizzy and my heart pound.

"Cassy! I just dropped chocolate ice cream all over myself. How about you come lick it off?" came a yell from the couch.

Dean and I broke into a laugh with our faces still hovering close. "He's such a sarcastic little shit," I chuckled, aiming my eyes down. He lifted a hand and used it to brush a wild piece of dark hair back into place. His thumb traced down the edge of my hairline, and landed right beneath my ear. He leant in even closer, until his lips were just about brushing against mine.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Cas." Dean whispered before leaning in entirely and planting one tender kiss against my lips. His fingers ran through my hair as he did so, and I found my hands grasping at the material of his jacket. I felt him smile against my lips as his hand cupped my chin, and he pulled his face away. He swung his car keys around one finger as he backed away with a wide smile on his face.

"Save me a seat in Physics?" I said, grinning back. He nodded, before turning to face his parked car. I retreated back into the house and closed the door behind me, taking a moment for my mind and stomach to settle before returning to my friend.

I walked quietly back toward the couch, and sat in my original position. I could see my friend out of the corner of my eye keeping his attention on the screen, but fighting to hold back a laugh. I turned to look at him, as he did the same to me.

"What?" I asked, as his lips quivered, and a wide smile broke through.

"I'm going to take a wild guess… and say you've kissed him more than just… two times now," my friend said, his laugh breaking up his words.

I reached to the cushion closest to me and smacked him the head with it, before settling back down into the couch. I sat with my eyes now on the television, rubbing my lips together, feeling the warm spark that existed in the pit of my stomach fade away.


	8. Chapter 8

After school on Friday I sped home, opening the door and running straight to my room when I got inside. I shoved various items of clothing in my back pack, including a t-shirt to sleep in, and clothes for the next day. I turned to my set of records and knew I couldn't possibly bring them all. I grabbed several of my favorites and held them against my chest as I slung the backpack over my shoulder.

I carefully made my way down the stairs, cautious not to drop or scratch my armful of records. Before I could reach the door I was interrupted by a voice that came from the kitchen.

"Where are you going, Castiel?" my older brother Luke asked me. He had just gotten home from work. His lavender tie hung loosely around his neck, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He was flipping through a pile of envelopes from behind the counter while Gabriel sat at the kitchen table eating a chocolate chip cookie.

"I'm sleeping at a friends" I replied in a monotone voice, taking another step toward the door. "He's my partner in a science project and it's due on Monday." I reached out toward the door handle, desperate to escape from further interrogation.

"Castiel, do not walk away from me when I am talking to you. What friend?"

"Dean Winchester."

"The boy who lives with that mechanic?"

"You mean Bobby? Yes." I readjusted the strap of my shoulder and shifted my body weight to the leg closest to the door. I reached out toward the door handle once again, taking my brother's silence as a cue to leave.

"When will you be home?" he spoke as I swung the door open. I took a step through and pulled my car keys from my pocket.

"Who knows."

I slammed the door shut and sighed with relied when Luke didn't follow. I opened my car door and set the records on the passenger seat. I threw my bag in the back and put the keys in the ignition. Music swelled through the car, and made me smile as I thought of spending tonight and the following day with Dean.

When I arrived at the dirt road that led up to Bobby's small house, I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the contacts to find Dean's name. I kept my left hand gripped firmly on the top of the steering wheel and held the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" Dean's voice spoke, a smile evident in his words. I could here a television blaring in the background and the crinkle of a wrapper.

"Uh, hello, Dean. I'm here."

At my words I heard the man on the other side of the phone scrambling to get up. "Oh, okay… great. Just uh, park in the area by the side of the house."

I pulled onto the grass and turned off my car, retrieving my backpack from the backseat and grabbing my pile of records. When I opened the door to step out, I saw Dean come around the corner. He was wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans. Without all the layers he looked vulnerable, even naked, but his eyes were gleaming and his mouth pulled back in a wide grin.

"Hey Cas." He paused and let his eyes fall to the records that now hung by my side. He reached forward and took them from my hand, pulling them against his chest. "So, uh, Bobby is on his way to the store right now. He'll pick us up something to eat. I think tacos. Do you like tacos?" He spoke quickly, conveying a sense of nervousness.

I nodded with a small smile. "Yes Dean, I like tacos."

"Okay, good… good. Uh, let's go inside then?" he said, holding out his unburdened arm toward the house.

When we took a step in, I found Sam sitting in front of the television with a bag of chips. The Avengers was playing loudly, only just beginning.

"Do you want anything to drink Cas?"

I shook my head.

Sam turned when he heard us walk in and smiled.

"Hi Castiel!" he spoke cheerfully. "Wanna come watch with me?"

"You don't have to if you don't want to." Dean spoke from the kitchen, filling a glass with ice and coca cola.

"No, I'd loved to," I said to Dean, and then turned to face Sam. "This is a great movie. Who's your favorite?"

"It's a tie between Thor and Captain America." Sam said, shoving a chip in his mouth. His eyes were glued to the television. "How about you?"

"Tony, well, Iron Man. Although I've always had a soft spot for Loki."

"Really?"

Dean slid down on the couch next to me with the glass in his hand. "I'm gonna have to agree with Cas on this one. Iron Man is a badass."

"Really Dean? I thought you'd like Thor. You know, a little arrogant, a little hotheaded, sorta like you," Sam joked with a grin. Dean retaliated by grabbing a chip from the bag and throwing it at him.

About halfway through the movie the door opened to reveal Bobby, waddling in with several shopping bags hanging on his arms. I jumped off the couch and rushed to help him, relieving him of a few bags.

"Thank you Castiel," Bobby said with a warm smile. "You're certainly more helpful than those two idjits."

Dean and Sam remained glued to the couch with eyes stuck on the screen. "Love ya too Bobby," Dean chuckled.

I walked with the bags over to the counter and began unloading them. I left the taco ingredients on the counter since we would be using them momentarily, but I put the rest of the groceries in their respective places.

"It's good to see you again," Bobby said taking his hat off to smooth his hair down and then putting it on again. "And you'll be staying the night?"

"Uh, yes, if that's okay, of course…" I said, closing the fridge.

"The more the merrier," Bobby said, slapping me on the shoulder and then opening the fridge again to retrieve a beer.

The four of us made our tacos and continued to watch the movie. Dean and Sam had a competition to see who could pile the most ingredients in their taco shell, and Bobby and I laughed when Dean took a bite only to watch his creation crumble. Bobby asked me about my family and my prospects for college, and Sam was curious about my current course load.

When our stomachs were full Dean pushed his chair back and took his plate. I followed his movements and placed my plate in the sink next to his.

"So, Bobby, Cas and I are gonna go up to my room, listen to some music before going to bed."

"Fine by me," Bobby said before taking a gulp of beer.

I got my pile of records from the kitchen counter and turned around. Dean was grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniels that sat amid several other bottles of hard liquor. He held a finger up to his lips and gestured his hand toward his room.

When we were safely behind the closed door, Dean grabbed the records from me and set them on his bed.

"Won't Bobby notice you took the bottle?"

Without answering Dean grabbed my face and pulled me toward him, pressing our lips together in a deep kiss. He lifted one hand and ran it through my hair before parting our lips and pulling me into an embrace. He rested his head on my shoulder and tightened his grip around my waist. I breathed deeply, and reciprocated the hug by wrapping my arms around his neck. He pulled back slightly and smiled.

"What was that for?" I asked, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks.

"I don't know. I missed you. I wanted to do that since you got here," he grinned and then took a step back. "Why don't you put on one of your records?"

I nodded and picked up the pile and began looking through them, thinking about which one to start the evening with. I decided on _London Calling_ by the Clash and pulled the thin record from it's cover. Bobby's record player was already set up on a table at the corner of Dean's room. It was older and dusty, but looked to work as well as mine.

When I set the needle down on the edge, and the first song began playing, I turned and found Dean sitting on the floor, leaning his back on the side of his bed. I sunk down next to him. He pulled the bottle of Jack Daniels to his chest and opened the cap. He lifted it to his mouth and took a deep swig, flinching slightly at the taste. He held it out toward me and I did the same, screwing up my face at the burning sensation in my throat.

Dean laughed. "Please don't tell me you're a light weight."

I took another sip, which went down a bit easier, and passed the bottle to him. "I'm not exactly sure. I've never had a lot to drink. Only a couple of beers with Balthazar every now and then."

Dean stood and went to his bedside table. He opened the small drawer and pulled our a slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He went over to a small window and pulled it open, sinking down to the floor in front of it.

"Come here," Dean said, putting a cigarette between his lips, and lighting it. I slid across the floor with the bottle in my hand and moved in next to him. He offered the pack to me and I took a cigarette and put it in my mouth as well. He flicked the lighter on and held it up to the end. The room soon filled with the smell of smoke as he continued to pass the bottle back and forth.

By the time we were done with the first cigarette the first side of the record had stopped, I got up to flip it over and noticed Dean lighting yet another cigarette.

"You really shouldn't smoke that much. It's unhealthy."

Dean shrugged and took a drag. "We're all gonna die Cas, may as well do what you want."

I smiled and took my spot next to him again. I reached into the pack again and put another cigarette between my lips. I reached toward the lighter which now sat on the ground but Dean's hand fell on top of mine to stop me. Instead he took his lit cigarette out of his lips and touched it to the end of mine, bringing his face closer.

We began passing the bottle back and fourth again, this time each of us taking down the liquid with great ease. As the bottle became emptier, my shy defenses began to fall. Without a second thought I took Dean's hand in mine and intertwined our fingers. He smiled softly at me, and lifted our hands to his mouth, pressing his lips against my knuckles.

The last song on the second side, "Train in Vain" began to play. "I love this song so much," I said happily, bouncing my head to the intro.

Dean laughed. "I don't think I've heard this one before."

At that I let go of his hand and jumped up to my feet, dancing in front of him. I shook my shoulders back and forth snapped my fingers, spinning around. I kicked my legs out and began to sing off key.

"You didn't stand by me. No not at all…. You didn't stand by me. No way."

Dean sent out a roar of laughter as he watched me wave my head from side to side, and sing more. I closed my eyes and felt my insecurities melt away entirely, moving my body to the music as Dean's laughter echoed behind the tune.

As the song faded out I stopped moving, while the room continued to spin around me. I felt uneasy on my feet, but soon felt Dean's solid arm around my back.

"How about we put on another album? Something else I haven't heard."

I decided upon my newest record, _Young, Loud, and Snotty_ by the Dead Boys. Instead of waiting for the whole record to play, I moved the needle to play my favorite song of theirs, "Caught with the Meat in Your Mouth."

As it began to play I took Dean by the hands and began moving once again, but this time him with me. He strummed at the air on a fake guitar as I flipped my head back and forth and sang the lyrics. He continued to laugh, and as the song progressed he got more into it, rocking his whole body forward and backward.

When the guitar solo came on I put my arms up in the air and span around again, as he fell to his knees and bit his lip while playing fiercely on his fake guitar. When the song ended again, I took a bow, and fell to the bed. He clapped and laughed and fell in the space next to me.

"Why don't you act like this all the time? I should get you drunk more often," Dean chuckled as he rolled on his side and propped his head on his arm.

"I don't know if it has as much to do with being drunk as it does with being in your company. Something about you just makes me feel… comfortable."

Dean smiled and leant closer to me. "You should always be comfortable with who you are, Cas. You're great."

At those words he closed the space between us and kissed me. I lifted my hand and let it fall to the back of his neck, and moved my thumb across his hairline. His breath was sweet against my tongue and sent waves of goosebumps trickling across my skin.

I slid further up the bed, keeping our lips connected, and rested my head on the pillow. He traced his tongue against my bottom lip and put his hand on my neck. My hands moved down to the top of his back and traced over the muscles that tightened under his t-shirt. He kissed the corner of my mouth, and then my cheek, moving slowly toward my jawline. He parted his lips and then let them fall across the skin of my neck, butterflies filling my stomach.

I let a quiet moan escape from my lips as his tongue swirled across the surface of my skin. My once gentle grip on his back was tightening, as he pressed his chest to mine. My hands steadily moved down the smooth fabric of his shirt and landed at the small of his back. I pushed my hands beneath the fabric and felt his warm skin. He sat up for a moment and pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his tanned torso. I mimicked him and took my shirt off as well.

When he laid back down on top of me, the warmth of his stomach and chest sent my mind spinning. He met our lips together again, this time more forcefully. He slipped his tongue in my mouth and moaned against my lips. I put my arms around his placed and pulled him harder against me. I felt the kissing slow and become softer. He pulled back, and rested his forehead against mine.

"Cas…" He paused, and closed his eyes. "I don't think we should move too fast."

"We're just kissing, Dean," I said as I attempted to lock our lips together again.

"I know, but I want more."

"So do I," I spoke, my drunkenness getting the better of me.

"You might now, but you're drunk. If we go any further I want it to be when we're both sober and sure that's what we want. I like you, Cas. I like you a lot, and I don't want to ruin things by moving to fast."

I tilted my head up pecked a kiss on his pink lips. "You're probably right," I said hesitantly. "I'm tired, too. We have to work on our project tomorrow, so would you like to call it a day?"

"Yeah, good idea," he smiled warmly.

He kissed me again, and then pulled himself up and off the bed. He undid his belt and pulled down his jeans. As I rose to do the same, he got under the covers and turned towards me, a warmth lingering behind his eyes. When I was undressed I pulled myself under the covers and slid next to him. He put his arms around my waist and pulled me in closer, planting a kiss on my forehead. I put my leg over his and sank into his embrace. I closed my eyes and let my dreariness consume me.

"Goodnight, Dean," I mumbled.

"Sweet dreams, Cas."


End file.
